


Someone to Protect

by Dance_Elle_Dance



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Emily just wants to help, F/M, Friendship, Protectiveness, Romance, Spencer has notoriously bad luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/Dance_Elle_Dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid has always been good at puzzles, but figuring out women - especially one, Emily Prentiss - leaves him completely, utterly stumped. Even more so when she finds it necessary to put herself in the line of fire just for him. (Originally posted on 12/21/10.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone to Protect

**Author's Note:**

> Re-post of another ReidPrentiss, my OTP for this fandom. Please enjoy! :)

Something is different about her.

Reid has always been intensely aware of Emily Prentiss, more than he wants to admit. There's more feeling there than there should be. The awereness has become almost to the point of being inappropriate with him, and he finds that even with the most intense way of concentrating her out of his psyche, she always worms his way back into t he recesses of his mind.

She's always been a tough woman, he knows this. Always trying to find justice, find the culprit of any crime no matter what. He admires her for this, more than he should, he believes.

He doesn't know if he's been imagining this strange electricity he feels between them - he actually doesn't want to think that, but he can't help it. Something this intense can only be fake, right?

Maybe it was his constant string of misfortune, or maybe it was something else entirely, but Reid has taken notice of Prentiss's new habit.

When things get particularly dicey, she does something that Reid isn't sure how to take - should he be flattered or insulted? Angry or embarrassed? Something like this boggles the young genius's mind, and he is barely able to process it.

Usually it happens when some Unsub was particularly violent towards them, raising a gun or whatnot - like charging toward them. No concern for them or himself.

Reid isn't sure if she realizes she's doing this, but Prentiss would move herself ever-so-slightly so she would be the focal point. She'd place her body in front of his, angle it just so that she wasn't in the way of his raised gun, but was in the way enough so that the Unsub wouldn't see Reid as the most dangerous person there. Even though he typically looked about as intimidating as a baby seal, he digresses.

It was almost like she was...protecting him.

He can't for the life of him figure out why, though.

Of course, he's been through the ringer more times than once. He's been shot, poisoned, maimed, kidnapped...

Okay, maybe he does need some protecting, after all.

Reid doesn't like how that sounds - that he needs protection of all things. He knows he can be sometimes clumsy and tend to rabble off about random things and all of that stuff, but he can be tough when he needs to be.

Another part of him thinks that it's... _kind_ of her to do that.

But yet another piece of him worries about her. Why would she knowingly put herself in danger just to make sure that he's safe? It isn't something that his logical mind can explain away easily.

He sighs and leans back in his chair. It has been a long night since they got back from California. A strangler case, except this Unsub had a nasty way of taking the victims' ears with him. He already had about five victims under his belt when the BAU got the call from the local police station.

They eventually found him, holed up in some ratty old house with his next victim strapped to a table.

Morgan had kicked down the door, and immediately the Unsub - Rick Johnston - held up the knife he was about to use on his victim. That was when it happened again, more noticeably this time. Prentiss barged down the door in front of Reid, gun at the ready, but with one hand she pressed to the flesh of Reid's hand. There was a flash of warmth where her skin touched his, but he thought nothing of it at the time. She gave him this look, that one of hers with her dark, dark eyes that held so much concern, almost telling him to _stay back_ when he knew he couldn't. This is his job.

She needn't have bothered. Johnston was apprehended without much fight. No bullets needed to be wasted, and in Johnston's case, a knife wasn't precariously thrown at any one of the BAU.

So, Prentiss's concern had been for nothing.

At least, that's what he thought. Reid still had trouble thinking of a reason as to why Prentiss would rather put herself in harm's way instead of just letting him take care of himself.

Reid sighs and leans forward on his desk. He folds his hands underneath his chin and looks over to the Rubik's cube on his desk. He had finished it many times before - it's quite easy for a puzzle, and he takes it in his hands. All the sides are one solid color and he soon breaks the similarity, twisting the pieces around until no one could tell it was finished in the first place.

His mind finds a happy place, as he is always in when he solves these kinds of puzzles. Like the wooden star that Prentiss had brought on the plane that one time, and had said it was "romantic." He had solved the puzzle without problem, much to her chagrin.

_And I'm thinking about her again,_ he thinks as he turns yet another side of the cube. It seemed to be a hobby of his now - thinking about the lovely brunette co-worker of his.

As if summoned, she turns the corner at that moment, coming back from the bathroom, he supposes, since that was the only room in that direction - and considering that everyone else had already gone home. He had no other place to be, so he just decided to rest here for a moment before heading off to his own abode.

"Oh, hey, Reid," she says, genuinely surprised. He credits her for thinking that he has more of a life than he does outside of this job. The job is his life, really. It sounds like a very Hotch-like thing to say, but he finds that it applies to him."What are you still doing here?"

Reid looks up from his puzzle. He has already completed it; the puzzle lingers in his hands as an afterthought.

"Nothing, really," he ventures, hoping that it would be enough.

It's not, as Prentiss lowers herself onto the edge of his desk, looking at him curiously. "You're an awful liar, Reid."

Reid only gives her a smile at that, and places the Rubik's cube on the desk in front of him, perfectly aligned as before.

He wants to bring up her behaviors, the ones that often put her in danger instead of himself, but he's not sure how. He waits.

Prentiss is staring off at the disarray that is Reid's desk. Various puzzles, crosswords, word searches, books, and other nick-knacks decorate the wood of his desk. Reid clears his throat quite awkwardly and looks down at his hands, folded in his lap. "I...er...was just wondering..."

The brunette looks up, tries to meet his eyes, but he's staring at the floor. She looks like she wants to say something, but she waits for the young genius to say what he has to say. It must be something awfully intrusive if he's like this. He hasn't been like this around her since they first met.

"About...today. Or, well, it's not just all the time, you've just..." Reid tries to continue, but somehow the words are getting tangled up in his mind. This is a rare occurrence for him, and he almost wants to punch himself. He clears his throat yet again and finally spits it out, "You've put yourself in front of me a lot lately - when things get risky in cases...like today with Johnston. Not to mention the other times when you've put yourself in the line of fire just to step in front of me. I find it very odd that - " He's rambling. Here it is, comfortable as a blanket, the words spewing forth from his mouth, " - you would do that. Put yourself in danger, just to keep me from getting hurt. Pardon me if I've misunderstood, but that's just how it looks to me and - "

"Reid," she tries, but he keeps on babbling. " _Reid_!"

This time, he stops. Looks at her. His mouth is hanging open in the process of forming a verb, but she had silenced him so he waits. Again.

"God," Prentiss murmurs underneath her breath. "Calm down, Bill Nye."

He flushes, feels the heat bloom beneath his skin, and hopes that she can't tell. By the look on her face, she can, and he coughs lightly before rubbing the back of his head with his hand, a sheepish grin forming across his face.

"I just - "

"Just one second, please," she says, smiling at him. "Don't go all Speedy Gonzales on me again."

Reid wonders how much blushing it would take before a human spontaneously combusts.

"Look," she starts. He finds himself hanging on that one word. Finds that his eyes can't seem to stray from her face now, now that he's done his tired - or lack thereof. He can't seem to look away from those luminous, dark eyes, and her clear, pale skin. Can't stop himself from imagining his hands in that thick mane of hair. "I'm just looking out for you, Reid."

"I can take care of myself, Prentiss," he chides her, not unkindly.

"It's more of a reflex than anything else..." Prentiss admits, looking at him, "I just really can't - what I'm trying to say is...ugh. Well..."

"You're almost as bad as I am," Reid observes, and then he notices the lovely pink her cheeks have turned. Since when did this become so... _high school?_

"I care about you."

Yeah, definitely high school. Except the girls at his high school never said _that_ to him.

"Uh...what?"

"I'm doing that, because...I _care_ about you, Reid."

Reid stares at her, and she looks a little green, as if she expects him to laugh at her and walk off, messenger bag in tow. But he doesn't. He'd never inflict that kind of pain on someone, especially not when he's felt it himself. And he wouldn't dream of hurting Emily Prentiss like that, either. Never. He couldn't. So he just looks at her, in shock, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish.

"And you tend to have very, very, _excrutiatingly_ bad luck," she continues, looking at him like he's the only thing she sees. "So there. Sorry if my concern is _cramping your style_." She injects a very playful tone into the last words as if to dispel the seriousness of the conversation; he gives her a smile and tries to ignore the way his heart reacts when she smiles back.

He swallows, and figurest that since she has laid it all out on the table, then maybe he should, too. "You're not...uh...cramping my style?" His voice gets a bit higher on the last bit of the sentence, making it sound like a question. Prentiss snickers at him.

"I don't want _you_ getting hurt looking after me," Reid ventures, embarrassment coloring his tone. "Basically I don't want you getting hurt in general, especially if it's while you were doing...well, what you've been doing."

Prentiss looks at him, cocks a brow at him just as he says, "Because I care about you, too."

She stares at him, shocked, before her eyes soften and she chuckles a bit, a light and mirthful sound that he finds pleasant to the ears, but she says nothing, only grasps his hand in hers and lifts him up from his chair, leaving it spinning behind him on its wheels. He looks at her and feels the warmth spread from her hand to his, making its way up his arm and throughout his body. He's not even surprised at the sensation anymore. He knows what he feels, and that's that. Apparently, she feels it as well, which makes it all the stranger.

"C'mon, let's go get something to eat," Prentiss says, just as Reid grasps his bag.

"It's one in the morning."

"Taco Bell, then."

At that moment, Reid's stomach chooses to growl. Prentiss laughs and says something to the effect that he needs to eat more anyway. He doesn't take it as a jab, but as a playful comment made by friends-maybe-something-else-sometime-soon.

All the while, Prentiss never loosens her grip on his hand. If anything, she grips it tighter, almost possessively.

Reid doesn't mind.


End file.
